


Death Of Me

by EyesOverEons



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blood and Violence, M/M, Suggestive Themes, homoerotic fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29329836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesOverEons/pseuds/EyesOverEons
Summary: Ever since Aizen's defeat, Grimmjow has been having strange dreams: Him in a dark void, facing off against the same pale opponent. How many times has he found himself there? How many times have they killed each other?
Relationships: Hollow Ichigo | Zangetsu & Grimmjow Jaegerjaques





	Death Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: "La Petit Mort"

Grimmjow opened his eyes to darkness. No, not darkness. It was more than that. Or maybe it was less? It wasn't just dark, it was _nothing_. His eyes scanned the nothingness around him. He didn't feel fear at his unknown surroundings, he had become familiar enough with this place to be unafraid. The former Espada wasn't sure how he arrived here. He was never sure. All he knew was that sometimes, when he would risk falling asleep, he would find himself in this void.

"Looking for me?" A voice called from behind him.

With a scowl, he turned towards its source.

A white figure materialized out of the darkness. The air grew heavy with hollow reiatsu.

It continued, "I was wondering when you'd come back. Just can't stay away from me, huh?"

It had been happening for months. Ever since Aizen's defeat, really. Grimmhow didn't understand where this was and he didn't really care. The pale being in front of him was equally unknown. He never bothered to ask why the other had the form of a certain substitute shinigami that was his proclaimed rival. It was almost as unimportant as the location. He had never even asked the hollow its name. That was unimportant too.

Here, there was only one thing that mattered.

A feral grin split the arrancar's face. "Well, aren't you chatty today?"

He could feel the roar of his blood as he readied himself. There was one thing Grimmjow _did_ know about this place: whenever he found himself here- facing off against his odd white opponent- he was always in for the fight of his life.

The dream- because what else could it be- was always similar, though never exactly the same. Sometimes they had their swords with them. Other times they were simply left to duke it out with fists. On the rare occasion they would both regress into bestial hollow forms, fighting with teeth and claws and instinct; completely surrendering to the haze of blood-lust and battle. Grimmjow could never get enough of those times. As much as the loss of his higher intellect should bother him, the pure raw power they wielded more than made up for it.

They had their blades on them this time, though Grimmjow could feel that his usual Resurrección form was off the table for the evening. Ah well, he'd make do.

The duo launched into it, unable to keep themselves apart for a second longer. The harsh clang of steel and the punishing sting of sharp metal on skin was the only form of conversation they would need for the foreseeable future. Each combatant broke away from the first engagement with more than a few cuts. The brief pause was only for a second. Their blood demanded destruction of the other.

Even limited to their normal swords, Grimmjow let himself sink into the intoxicating thrall of the fight. There were no thoughts or plans to out-maneuver or trick, only the desire to overpower. The need to rip the hollow in front of him to pieces.

The hollow cursed as Grimmjow carved a sharp line across his side. The white shihakushō blossomed with deep crimson. Icy blue eyes met the wild gold of his opponent, crazed with madness.

A second later, he was on the ground, the tip of a giant khyber blade at his throat. Grimmjow's face twisted into a hysterical grin, too far gone to think about any consequence. The nameless hollow wasted no time in plunging the sword down.

There was no mercy to be found here.

His thoughts reeled back to the first time he had found himself in the dream. The pale hollow had taunted him, calling him weak, saying that Grimmjow should have curled up and died when the chance had been presented. Hot rage had filled the arrancar and he turned on his foe with a fierce brutality. He had watched the hollow go limp, seen those unnatural eyes go hazy and unfocused. Grimmjow had started to walk away, disappointed that the fight was so shirt and anticlimactic affter all of their jeering. Then, a sword had erupted through him: entering his back just under his ribs, angled up to exit near his right collarbone.

"You-!" There was blood in his mouth. "How?"

Even as he watched, the light had started to return to those dead eyes. Strength had returned to the white hand pulling the sword free. "I don't play by the usual rules."

Back in the present, The blade pierced his throat and Grimmjow's mind blanked at the sensation, wild emotions suddenly swirling through him and rendering him immobile. The rush of endorphins released by his brain further fogged his mind as the blade withdrew from his jugular. The pain and pleasure twisted together, short-circuiting any thought other than pure bliss.

How many times had he died here?

The afterglow of death was something he would never get tired of.

It was the single best feeling he had ever experienced. Every single time.

The fatal wound was already healing itself- slipping closed like a zipper- as Grimmjow launched himself forward, not even bothering to grab his own sword. He willed his hands into vicious claws as he dove at the hollow responsible for his death. It would be rude not to return the favor. His hand missed its mark and buried deep in the hollow's abdomen.

"You missed. Come on, I know you can do better than _that_." The hollow teased, gripping Grimmjow's wrist hard enough to snap bone.

Grimmjow only laughed in response, "Why don't you toss that blade away and we can fight like the monsters we are!" He was beyond delighted at the black claws that appeared on his own hand. So it was going to be one of _those_ times. Maybe this night would be fun after all.

The hollow didn't have to be told twice. He flashed an equally battle-mad grin and slammed the white blade into the non-existent ground, letting two angular horns manifest on his head.

They met again, clawing and tearing at their flesh, ceros fired with no regard for collateral. The only thing that mattered was each other and the taste of blood in their mouths.

The hollow shuddered and fell limp as Grimmjow pulled a bloodied hand from the hole that was, until a second ago, the hollow's right eye.

There was a beat as Grimmjow allowed the other to bask for a moment in the wonderful feeling of mortality.

Sure, killing held its own rewards, but there really was nothing like death.

No sooner had the hollow recovered than they were ripping each other apart again.

The hollow's horns found purchase in Grimmjow's chest. He felt the searing agony of a cero being charged _inside of him-_ The heat and pressure flaring to an exploding crescendo as flesh and bone was burned away.

The agony was indescribable.

The rapture was immeasurable.

In the beginning of these dreams they had actually been trying to win. Death meant nothing so it came down to numbers: who broke the most bones, who shed the most blood. Neither of them ever took the victory though. By the end of their fights, they were hardly ever lucid enough to remember specific numbers, too drugged up on the delicious violence and gore. Somewhere along the line they had both given up on even attempting.

As expected, time slipped away from them. Their harsh breaths came in gasps and pants as they clawed and bit at one another. The hearts that should not exist in their chests pounded as pieces of them were gouged and over they died, freeing them from the slivers of humanity that may have yet existed in their corrupted souls.

Grimmjow pinned the smaller hollow to the ground, a knee roughly pressing on his sternum. He felt the crunch of ribs yielding to the pressure and watched the flood of emotions in his prey's expression as gold-on-black eyes rolled back.

He hesitated a second too long after his kill. The smaller figure twisted, reversing their positions. Grimmjow was flat on his back, the hollow straddling his waist before either could consciously react.

Hands found their place firmly around Grimmjow's throat and blackness seeped into his vision. Just before he slipped into that comforting unconsciousness, the fingers lightened and he impulsively drew in a shaky breath. The strangling was back a moment later, repeating the process.

"You sure are taking your sweet time." Grimmjow choked out when he could.

The hollow tightened his grip again, a smirk on his lips and fire in his eyes. "Heh. And you said _I_ was the one being chatty. What if I want to take my time? What if I want to hear you _beg_?"

Ah. Torture. So that's what he was going for.

It wasn't unheard of in their little game. Practically nothing was off the table. But Grimmjow knew it wasn't the hollow's main MO. It was Grimmjow himself who usually liked to draw it out.

The arrancar stated as much: "As if you have the restraint to do that without killing me too quickly." A smirk pulled at his lips.

"Oh?" the hollow purred, "And you know me _so_ well, do ya Konkeo?"

"Well enough. Just finish it already." Grimmjow tried his best not to growl. The tantalizing release of death was so tantalizingly close--

Feral amusement sparked in the gold eyes above him as sharp nails dug into his shoulder. "You don't know shit about me!" He suddenly shouted. With a rough hand, he gripped Grimmjow's hair and slammed his head back down; not hard enough to kill him of course, but it certainly left the arrancar stunned. Pain erupted as Grimmjow's hand as a thin white daito skewered his palm. He bit back a snarl. The hollow hadn't had a sword a second ago

The sword was removed, replaced by an equally sharp tongue. A shiver ran through him from the sensation. The sword tip dragged up his forearm, scoring a long bloody line. A second cut was quickly added, followed by more.

Grimmjow didn't bother looking at his mangled arm, his focus was on the hollow; his gold eyes flashed with unrestrained glee as he methodically continued his vivisection. The cuts soon made their way to Grimmjow's chest. His head swam from blood loss. Still, it wasn't enough.

Time stretched on as the hollow carved away, leaving Grimmjow writhing as his skin burned and his mind became overwhelmed. Sometimes he wouldn't even feel the sting as the metal opened up another gash. Sometimes a light touch would leave him reeling.

"Enough!" Grimmjow snapped finally, spite filling his words "You said you wanted me to beg, so fine. _I'll f-ing beg_. I can't f-ing take it anymore! Just get on with it!"

A malicious, homicidal grin of victory split the hollow's face and he wasted no more time, plunging the sword tip through Grimmjow's heart and almost whispering two words: " _Getsuga Tensho_."

The ensuing blast swallowed up both of them. Tearing flesh from bone as the wildfire of energy engulfed both hollows and spread into the void beyond.

The mutual destruction was glorious.

Better than anything that came before it.

They returned from death together, gasping in air and feeling the dark world swirl around them. Staring up into the nothing above him, Grimmjow felt oddly calm, an emotion that was completely foreign to him. He wondered if the other hollow felt the same. He wondered what would happen if he just closed his eyes and let himself melt into the void. He wondered-

"Well, that was fun, Koneko." The hollow said, voice still somewhat subdued from the rush of the high they had experienced. "Take care not to die before we meet next time, yeah?" He flashed a wild grin.

Grimmjow opened his mouth to protest, but felt himself being pulled out of the strange darkness. He startled awake, once again under the cold sky of Hueco Mundo. His head felt foggy and he allowed himself to sit for a moment, relishing the lingering echos of the strange dream to wash over him. The hollow's promise reverberated in his head. Despite himself, a smirk stretched across his face. _Next time, huh? I'm looking forward to it._


End file.
